Veiled Target (A Veilers Novel) (13 page)

He’d pressured her enough for one evening. It was time to ease off. A fierce need to protect her coursed through his blood, like it had when Max had been so distraught over Heather’s death. He couldn’t save his brother. Maybe he could save Tess. His heart lurched at the notion. In a very short time, she had wiggled her way into his heart.

It’s because she saved your life. Nothing more.

“Absolutely.” He rose, grabbed their plates, tossed them in the sink and located a couple of tall glasses. “Vanilla or chocolate?” he asked, pulling tubs of each out of the freezer.

“How about a scoop of each?”

His kind of girl.

His kind of girl.
That thought repeated itself over and over again in his mind as he prepared the floats.

They ate in silence, the quiet not at all uncomfortable. Something he couldn’t put his finger on—camaraderie? obligation? desire?—lingered in the air between them. He tried not to pay too close attention to her, tried not to fall deeper into her allure. The cold dessert did nothing to squelch the heat running through him at a marathon pace.

“Ready to hit the sack?”

She choked on the last slide of her ice cream and cleared her throat. “With you?”

God, how he’d love to finish what that life-saving kiss had started. “You offering?”

“No! I’m not offering.” She pushed to her feet and then with a softer tone added, “Are you asking?”

Ah.
The unnamed air mixture just got thicker. The last time he’d felt this hungry for a female was, well, never. Never this out of his mind eager. Desirous. Every other woman he’d spent any amount of time with paled in comparison to Tess.

But it couldn’t happen. Not tonight. Not under these circumstances.

He turned a cold shoulder. And planned on a cold shower.

“I’ve got a guest room this way.”

“Oh, okay. Great. Any chance I could get my purse out of the car first?” She followed him with her shoes dangling in one hand.

It took every ounce of strength he had not to spin around, scoop her up, and carry her to his bedroom. Forget about the plan to keep his paws off.

“I’ll grab it for you later.”

“I could really use it now.”

So that all your compact-size weapons are handy
.
I don’t think so.
“Let me get you in your room first.”

The sleeping arrangements were going to come as a surprise to her. She’d be mad as hell, but he couldn’t take any chance of her escaping or snooping around. Trust, he knew, carried a different interpretation by different people.

“Here we are.” He opened the door to the bedroom next to his and led her in. “There’s a bathroom just through there”—he nodded his head toward a closed door—“and extra blankets in the closet if you need them.”

She did a quick survey of the room. “Thanks.”

“Good night then.”

“Good night.” She stayed right where she was, just inside the room, as he retreated.

He shut the door behind him. And then he locked her inside.

Tess heard the click and raced to try the door handle. It was locked.

“Hugh! You did not just lock me in here,” she yelled, pounding on the door.

No answer.

“Hugh, goddammit. Unlock this door! I’m not some animal you can lock away. What happened to trusting each other?” She beat her fists on the door. “Hugh!”

It was no use. He wasn’t going to unlock the door. He probably stood right on the other side, smiling like the conniving wolfen he was. And she couldn’t really blame him. The truth was, if he hadn’t locked her in the room, she’d have escaped.

Her options were zip now. She turned and leaned against the door in defeat. A closer look around the room revealed only a small window, no bigger than a shoe box. That should have been the first thing she noticed and tipped her off immediately. This was the prisoner’s quarters.
You can enter, but never leave.

She grumbled on the way to the bathroom. Big shower, double sink. No window. The grumble turned to a mumble that included the many ways she thought to get even with him.

A warm shower sounded good so she turned it on and got undressed. Clothes. She had no clothes aside from the awful blue dress she refused to put back on her body. She’d wear a towel before she put that clingy thing back on.

As she stood under a steady stream of hot water, she took a deep breath and let her mind float back to the feelings she’d been trying her damndest to keep at bay. Feelings that unsettled her because they were deeper than anything she’d felt before. Even with Jason. Despite being a half shifter, Hugh was more man than she’d ever dreamed possible.

And she wanted him.

Never had she opened up to someone like she’d done with him tonight. Heck, for five years, Kensie and Francesca had no idea she’d been searching for someone named Dobson. They had no inkling she’d promised Jason she’d find his killer. That she couldn’t give up her search until she got revenge. And hopefully some answers.

Tess had been fairly certain she didn’t need anyone else in her life. The rush she got from work and extreme sports satisfied her. Kept her busy and in touch with all sorts of people. Out on ledges and edges and in crazy-ass settings, she didn’t have time to think about anything or anyone else for very long.

Tonight she thought she might’ve died if Hugh had. She couldn’t explain why, but she agreed with his assessment that it wasn’t a coincidence that brought them together. Fate had dealt her an awful hand with her parents and Jason, and now she’d been thrust into a partnership with a man that turned her inside out. The irony of his being her mark wasn’t lost on her and her past misfortunes. But maybe she wasn’t supposed to kill him? Maybe she was destined to fail a third time.

The way he’d looked at her tonight, the way he’d touched her wrists with care and compassion, the way he’d whipped up a meal for her, assured her his intentions were pure. He’d meant what he said about helping her. And not just with Dobson.

She’d never before thought about turning her back on P.I.E. The organization had given so much to her, she couldn’t imagine leaving under any circumstances. A death threat and Hugh suddenly changed that. Her imagination ran wild.

Stop thinking, Tess.
She turned off the water and wrapped up in a soft oversized towel. Exhaustion hit her hard, every inch of her body bone tired. She padded out of the bathroom and headed straight for the bed. She pulled back the comforter, unwrapped the towel, and used it to dry her hair a bit. Then she climbed underneath the sheets, lifted the coverings up to her chin and vowed to get a call in to Kensie or Francesca in the morning. Her purse and some new clothes were also on the list.

Her eyelids fluttered shut less than a minute later, and she allowed herself to be content in the comfort of the downy soft bed. If nothing else, she felt safe. Safe to sleep soundly. Safe to dream happy dreams.

That would not include Hugh,
she mused to herself.

Who was she kidding? He’d be starring front and center.

She woke to a
click
, but didn’t move or stir or budge. The bed was
sooo
comfy and cozy and maybe if she stayed still, whatever had caused the click would go away.

“Tess,” said an endearing masculine voice. “It’s time to wake up.”

Her eyes opened wide at the sound of the deep, rugged announcement. “Go away. I’m not talking to you.”

“I’ve got a couple things for you,” he answered, ignoring her no-talking policy.

Darkness still filled the room and she wondered what time it was. It felt like she’d had a solid eight hours sleep so it couldn’t be too early. In fact, she felt more rested than she had in a long time. She stayed motionless and quiet.

“I’m coming in.” The downlight above her head turned on.

She didn’t care. His actions didn’t mean she had to act.

Wait.
He’s coming in? She sat up, bringing the covers with her. She told herself he didn’t have x-ray vision, but that didn’t stop the tingles popping up all over her body. She was naked, and Hugh was coming into the room.

He wore jeans that sat low on his hips and a plain white T-shirt that clung to his lethally sexy chest muscles. His hair was mussed, like he’d showered and then ran his fingers through it. His face was clean-shaven. His blue eyes deeper than the waters she’d scuba dived in Australia. God, did he have to look so irresistible this morning?

“Good morning.”

She stayed quiet. Because she was mad about being locked in the room or because he took her breath away, she wasn’t sure.

“This no talking thing could work to my advantage.” He stepped closer.

To her nakedness. Did he know she wasn’t wearing anything underneath the sheets? And oh geez, what did her hair look like? Going to sleep with it wet surely meant she had a rat’s nest thing going on.

When he got to the edge of the bed, she watched him venture a peek toward the bathroom. Her eyes followed his and there in plain view were the blue dress and black lace undergarments on the floor.

She pulled the sheets tighter against her. “What time is it?” Talking might get her mind off her birthday suit.

“She speaks.” His eyes held hers with the same mixture of heat and desire she’d noticed last night. “It’s eleven.”

“Eleven? Holy shit. I never sleep this late.”
And note to self: Don’t look into his eyes anymore.

He smiled. “Guess you needed it.”

“More like the lack of window space kept the room dark. You’ve got some nerve, you know that?” She ran a hand through her hair to feel what it looked like. Not too bad.

“Do you blame me?”

Admitting she didn’t would not work in keeping him at bay, so she lied. “Yes. I do.” She frowned for further effect.

He dropped something on the bed. “Well, maybe this will make up for it. Clean clothes. And your phone.”

Relief and forgiveness overcame her. Wait. Her phone? “You went through my purse?” It would’ve been a lot better if he’d plopped her bag on the bed, but he was only acting the same way she would have.

“Again, I don’t think you’re surprised. You’ve got some major arsenal in there. It could’ve come in handy with the Banoth. And your driver’s license picture doesn’t do you justice.”

He looked less and less sexy by the minute. “You looked through my wallet? Who the hell do you think—”

“I think I needed to confirm you are who you say you are. Tess Elizabeth Damon.” A grin that would have made her fling the sheets to the side and shout “take me” had she not been so pissed at him for snooping flanked his handsome—
no, not handsome!
—face.

“I’m a P.I.E. eliminator. What makes you think that license is real? I could be Tess one day and Betty the next.” Tess Damon was her real name, but if anyone looked her up, they’d learn only what P.I.E. wanted them to.

Hugh continued to grin. “You don’t look like a Betty.”

“Screw you.”

“I thought we’d been over that, but I’m willing to revisit it if you—”

“I want you the hell out of this room and away from me.” Her blood boiled. Hugh Langston was goddamn annoying.

He took two steps back. “My pleasure. I’ll get a lot more done without—”

“Wait!” She hated the tone of desperation in her voice. “Toss me my phone, would you?”

She caught it and checked for any sort of bugging device. It was clean. “Thanks. I’m going to call my roommates to let them know I’m okay. Otherwise, there could be trouble. I’m also going to tell them I’ve started my next assignment so I won’t be around.”

“They know you’re Apple Pie?”

The way he threw out the words “apple pie” melted some of her anger. He might not have meant it to, but it sure sounded like a term of endearment coming from his lips. No one had ever called her by a nickname.

She’d come this far with him, so she may as well go the whole way. “I’ll be talking to Peach and Cherry.” The corners of her mouth lifted without permission. It sounded funny. And felt funnier.

It also convinced her she’d lost every one of her brain cells where he was concerned. It took him all of two seconds to get information out of her. He was like truth serum and she liked the way it tasted. Liked feeling a little less alone and like she had someone to confide in.

Hugh looked genuinely taken aback. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. It’s part of this trust thing we’ve got going on.”
So keep the door unlocked, please.

He ignored her subtle attempt to get him to reciprocate. “If the clothes don’t fit, let me know and I’ll have Blanche go back out for something else.”

“Blanche went shopping for me? Is she here right now?”

“She’s gone.” He moved toward the door. “I’m pretty good at sizing up people so the clothes should work. I took you for a jeans and T-shirt kind of girl after the way you squirmed in that dress last night.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She hoped she sounded as cantankerous as she felt.

“It means you looked damn hot in it, but probably borrowed it from either Peach or Cherry.”

He thought she looked hot? And how the hell did he know her so well? Her entire body shook at the notion of someone knowing her better than she was comfortable with. Hugh rocked her world on so many levels that she lost her voice.

“You’ve decided to stop talking again?”

She hoped her jaw hadn’t dropped before she finally mustered, “Sorry, um, what was the question? Oh wait, I remember. Yes, I borrowed the dress, smarty-pants. Now get out so I can get dressed.”

Surprisingly, he turned and left without a word. Huh. No comment on the smarty-pants could only mean one thing. He’d allowed her the last word.

Didn’t that just suck?

She dialed home. Kensie picked up on the second ring. “It’s about time you called,” she said without a hello. “We were about ready to come looking for you. If we didn’t know Trey was a good bloke we would’ve been worried to death by now. Not that you can’t take care of yourself. It’s just we’ve been talking nonstop about your date and hypothesizing up the wazoo about what’s going on. So tell me already! What’s going on? I knew you’d like Trey. He’s ace. Are you at his place right now? When—”